KEY POINTS:
My mother made great efforts to give me a suitable name when I was born. She sought the help of the temple, Taoist mediums and a grand aunty, said to have the ability to choose names to give us positive outcomes.
After reading into the day and time of my birth and my Chinese zodiac sign, the combined forces of monks, a relative and the Chinese almanac, she gave me the name Tan Kim Huat - Tan, being my family name, Kim meaning gold and Huat prosperity in her Hokkien dialect.
So I became Master Golden Prosperity.
I lost that name when I started school. Mandarin had become one of Singapore's official languages and my name was changed to the Mandarin Hanyu Pinyin spelling of Chen Jinfa.
But after moving to New Zealand, I realised my golden prosperity name would not lead me to prosperity. In fact, it would do quite the opposite.
A recent Auckland University survey confirmed what I had long suspected - that my name was an obstacle to me getting job interviews. The survey report, A Rose By Any Other Name, found New Zealand employers discriminate against people with ethnic-sounding names.
But to be fair, such also happens elsewhere. American authors Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner in their book Freakonomics found American employers also tended to be biased against black-sounding names such as Imani, compared with white-sounding ones like Benjamin or Katherine.
However, the problem goes beyond the hunt for jobs in New Zealand, as a Chinese bank manager friend discovered. For two months he had struggled to find a rental property. Agents had been giving him one excuse after another.
Finally he used an anglicised name - David - instead of his Chinese one, and within two days got a rental property on the North Shore.
I was fortunate that along with a Chinese name, my mother also gave me a Western name, Lincoln, which she said was after Abraham Lincoln.
When I was baptised a Catholic as a teenager, I also took on the baptismal name of Thomas. But the move to New Zealand almost cost me my name.
First I had to revert to using my original Chinese name Tan Kim Huat - the name on my birth certificate and passport - and not Chen Jinfa, my school-given name and what is printed on school and education documents.
But my biggest battle to keep my family name intact in New Zealand was with my driver's licence.
My Singapore licence had my name as Tan Kim Huat Lincoln, and a clerk insisted that in the order it was printed, Lincoln was my family name and Tan my given name. The woman refused to accept my explanation that in some Asian countries family names are sometimes placed before given names.
I felt that her stubbornness not only betrayed her cultural ignorance and insensitivity, but also her arrogance. I know of many who have migrated to New Zealand who have had their given names become their family names and no way was I going to let that happen to me.
A name is a person's most personal possession and I was not prepared to let a clerk wipe off my heritage.
Fifteen minutes of explaining and we finally came to a compromise. I could keep Tan as my surname if Kim was put as my first given name, and not Lincoln. So according to my New Zealand driver's licence, I am Kim Tan.
With such unwillingness to accept differences, I am sure immigrants who cannot mount a strong argument in English are destined to see their family names disappear.
At a New Zealand Chinese Association conference, a former Vietnamese refugee shared her story of how she lost her family name when bungling bureaucrats and domineering teachers changed it from Lai Kar Yi to Yungi, then to Gia Nghi Phung, when she moved from Vietnam to Australia, then to New Zealand.
Australian immigration officials gave her her mother's surname instead of her father's, and her English teacher, who could not pronounce her name, said her name was to be spelt Yungi.
To make lives easier for those who cannot pronounce or remember ethnic names, it has become a popular practice for many to take on a Western name.
An insurance broker called himself Mark because he was tired of having to answer the same questions from people asking "What did you say your name was?" And "How do you spell that?"
But in the effort to find a name to make them stand out, some people have adopted laughable ones. I have encountered Season, Wind, Iguana and Kiwilian.
Many fail to consider names create first impressions, and many immigrants do not know that by failing to make adopted names official through a deed poll, they could land in trouble.
This year a Malaysian immigrant gave the police his adopted name when he was stopped for a traffic offence. When the police found the name was not on his passport, he was arrested, locked up and charged with providing a false identity.
But for many immigrants, changing names and adopting new ones are all part and parcel of starting life anew.
When my son was born, I was tasked with finding a Western name after my wife had chosen a Chinese name for him. As a big fan of Manchester United, I was quite keen to name him after Ryan Giggs or Ole Gunnar Solkskjaer.
I guess my son Ryan should consider himself very lucky that my wife was so adamant that the name Ole Gunnar Tan was totally out of the question.
